This is a little something I wrote a few months back. I wanted to write more on it but for some reason I couldn’t. Please do read and I apologize for any mistakes.
“Haram, Haram, Haram!” Di screamed out, jerking me around. I was staring at the Qur’an sitting across the room. It was beautifully clad in a green velvet cloth. It was gifted to me by Ammi, when I was ten. Since then, I read it every night before I went to sleep. “Ya Allah!! Answer me.” Di screamed again. Questions were being fired at me. But the look on her face after my confession left me with no answers. She was pacing now, talking to herself and reciting Dua’s in between. I did not know what to do. She was my only hope. I did not expect her to understand but I thought she would react better than Abba and Ammi would. If this was “better” , I would rather keep this horrible secret to myself. But I can’t live like this anymore. I just can’t. For years I hated myself for this. I thought it was a perversion , the Qur’an says so too. I prayed to Allah Ta’ala everyday to make me normal. However,the feeling of disgust just kept increasing day by day along with my prayers. But then I felt love . As pure as my faith. I know it in my heart that this is not a perversion. The conflict between my faith and love was becoming too hard to handle. Di was my only way to relieve the burden. Or that is what I thought.
She pushed me onto the bed. I felt like my life was a beautifully made art movie. I could hear her talking in the back of my head. But she did not know that whatever reasons she was stating against my very own existence had already gone through my mind a million times. I did not wake up one morning and just become like this. Neither was this a choice. I had been walking around with this burden for a very, very long time. I had gone through many stages- denial, anger,curiosity and Allah knows what stage I am going through now. I had promised myself that I will never bring it up anywhere. I had promised that I will never talk about it. I had promised myself that I would force myself to marry a man and try my best to attempt to be happy. But then I met her. She was the most beautiful person I ever met. I stayed away from her for as long as I could. I prayed even harder- day and night. But I was too weak. Too weak to fight the attraction. We started talking about everything and anything. The more we talked, the more I fell in love. For once I could be myself and not feel ashamed.
I was so tired of hiding. I was so tired of hating myself. I was always so tired But now I know why I was so keen on keeping the promises I had made to myself.
“Ayesha! Are you even listening?!” My name, yelled out so loud, broke the thread of my thoughts. I had invoked anger in her by not listening to even a word she said. But I did not know… what to do…what to say… I didn’t know anything.